Chapter Text
By the time Rogers and Bucky (and, Tony grudgingly added, Natalia-Natasha) were done retaking the ship, the others they'd left behind were on their way across the water. They'd had to abandon the Heavy and the ski-doos, but that was a negligible loss given what they'd gained, which was not just Steve Rogers but also a shipful of Soviet soldiers.
It was the kind of volatile situation that Tony knew required careful consideration. If the sub had noticed its officers on the Marvel were quiet, it wasn't yet panicking. Tony had set up the radio jammer to mimic natural interference as much as possible, and Rhodey had pumped sea water into their fuel tank even as he was pumping fuel from the sub into the Marvel, so they should be well and truly fucked if they tried to follow when the Marvel ran.
"We have two problems," Bucky said, as the ship's crew helped the others back onboard and raised the boats.
"One, they'll have to notice when the ship starts to run," Rogers said.
"Two, what the hell do we do with the Soviets?" Carol added.
"Throw them overboard," Romanoff suggested. Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. "A tragic accident. Politically neutral. Besides, if they inform on me, I may as well throw myself overboard. The Red Room doesn't let go of its own."
"They haven't technically seen you betray them," Rogers pointed out. "I could easily have been the one who dropped you when you ducked."
"If we take them back with us, either the government's got to cover it up or it's going to get out and cause an international incident," Tony said. "We don't need another Cuban Missile Crisis. Not with Nixon in the White House."
"A what now?" Rogers asked.
"Tell you later," Bucky said to him quietly.
"Stark Industries doesn't need the publicity either," Rhodey said, and Tony turned to him, startled. "It's an arms-maker, Tony. Tangling with Russians in the back of beyond. Not good for you, even if we weren't the aggressors."
"Can we....just let them go? Put them in one of the boats and run? That seems deeply unwise," Carol said.
"Well, they can't follow the Marvel very far, even in the sub," Tony said, rubbing his face.
"In terms of military intelligence, the commander is useful," Romanoff said. "Take him. Leave the rest?"
"I realize I don't have a lot of the map on this one, but she's got a point," Rogers said. Romanoff looked shocked. "One prisoner's easy to keep track of. The rest of these guys...they're foot soldiers. They're not major players, they're not useful."
"Just following orders?" Tony suggested drily.
"I try not to hold enlisted men accountable for the sins of their commanders," Rogers replied, voice sharp. "And as someone who's actually been in a war -- "
"Steve," Bucky said warningly. Steve frowned at him. Bucky looked to Tony, which warmed him a little.
"Carol's ship," Bucky said. "Tony's expedition. Your call. Anyone who isn't ready to back your play needs to speak up now and -- Steve, my hand to God, if you don't keep quiet," he began, when Steve opened his mouth. It was a tone Steve knew well, and he shut his mouth again.
Tony looked at Carol. "We throw the others in the expedition boat with the radar jammer. Keep the commander. We still have one good engine, right? So, we run as soon and as silent as we can. We're going to haul ass for New York, just in case they have friends around. Yes?"
Carol nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
"You approve, Captain Rogers?" Tony asked. He saw Rogers cross his arms.
"Apparently I do," he said. "But I have one more suggestion," he added, and turned to Natasha. "We're gonna need to tie you up, too."
***
They weighed anchor that night, as quietly as they could, at a time when the submarine was on shift change, at least that was the hope. With one functional engine and a need for silence, they drifted west with agonizing slowness. Tony, from the aft deck, watched the submarine (and the boat with the Soviet crew in it) disappear over the horizon behind them. Either they hadn't noticed the Marvel leaving, or they'd burned out their engines trying to give chase with fuel holds full of sea water.
Bucky was below, probably asleep. Most of the crew were. Janet was helping her father pack up his experiments to make room for her in his room; they'd locked up Natasha and the commander in hers. Tony wasn't sure where Rogers was sleeping yet. Maybe he'd be sharing Bucky's bunk, Tony thought, and then was ashamed of his bitterness.
Tony should go take the cook's bunk, let Steve have his bed in the cabin. Give Bucky and Steve time together. That was -- well, fairness didn't play into it, but that was right, as right as anything could be in a situation this difficult.
He'd known he couldn't have Bucky forever. If they found Steve, he'd have to let him go, and he'd have to try to be graceful about it. He hadn't expected it to hurt this much (or for Steve Rogers to be, well, kind of a dick) but it wasn't the first thing in his life he'd had to let go because of who he was, or who someone else needed to be.
Once they were back in New York, he'd disengage gently; he'd talk to his mother about finding some appropriate young woman for the heir of Stark Industries. A smart girl, sociable but not too wrapped up in society, and a brunette. With blue eyes.
"Have you been to bed yet?" someone asked behind him, and Tony glanced over his shoulder. Rogers.
"Didn't think I'd be able to sleep. If something came up, I wanted to be awake for it, anyway," Tony said. Rogers came to stand at the railing next to him. "You should take my bed if you want, I thought I'd bunk down in the cook's place. Once I bleach it and maybe perform an exorcism."
"Oh, I already took the cook's bunk," Rogers said. "I'm used to worse and anyway, I don't sleep all that much anymore."
Tony nodded, perplexed but unwilling to get into it, not when he was so tired and felt so thin-skinned.
"Listen," Rogers continued. "I feel like we maybe got off on the wrong foot."
"Well, that's me all over," Tony said, not looking at him. "If I can possibly offend Captain America I will find a way. Bucky'll tell you it's an ongoing condition."
"He's sweet on you."
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"Son, I've known him since before his voice broke. Him and men isn't news to me," Rogers said.
"Well, don't you have all the answers."
"I know you gotta protect yourself -- "
"It's not about me," Tony interrupted. "Me, I've got power, I've got the Stark name behind me. It's about protecting him."
"Then you and me have one thing in common already," Rogers said. "I'm trying to make nice here. You're making it difficult."
"Again, you'll find that's something I do," Tony said, but he turned to face him. "Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry," Rogers said firmly. "That swipe earlier was out of line. I'm grateful for what you've done, everything you've done -- for me, for Buck. And I like to own up to my mistakes. I want to be friends. For Bucky's sake if no other reason. Can we start with a truce, at least?"
He offered his hand. Tony glanced down at it, then shook it, a sinking feeling in his chest.
"It'll be what, a week, two weeks back to New York?" Rogers asked.
"Week or ten days," Tony agreed. "Two weeks if I can't get the second engine working."
"You got such a thing as a deck of cards on this tin can?"
"Why, you wanna play bridge?" Tony asked.
"I was thinking poker," Rogers said. "I haven't got much to bet with just yet, but if you loan me a dollar I can usually do all right for myself."
"You want me to loan you a dollar so you can beat me at poker?" Tony asked. Rogers nodded, grinning. "Well, you're ballsy, Rogers, I'll give you that."
"Steve."
"Steve," Tony said, taking his wallet out of his pocket, unearthing a dollar bill. He held it out and then leaned in close when Steve took it. "Don't ever call me son again, Steve."
Steve's smile was wicked. "Sure thing, Kiddo."
***
They ran mostly silent, that week. They didn't know if other Soviet ships might be in the area, and they couldn't report their position, or where they were headed, just in case. Tony spent a lot of time in the engine room, repairing the second engine, trying to get the magnetic repulsion system back online. It kept him out of the way, and it gave Steve and Bucky time to talk, or whatever it was they were doing.
He hauled himself up for evening meals, and sometimes a card game after. But he went to bed early, and even on the nights when Bucky followed him down the corridor and into their shared cabin, he just undressed and crawled into bed. Bucky didn't try to make it anything more, which was a small mercy.
They were passing the coast of Newfoundland, still two days out from New York, and Tony was restlessly looking for somewhere to light -- his usual perch at the rear of the ship was taken by Sam, who was getting Natasha her regular few hours of fresh air before she had to be locked back in with the commander. Half the crew was in the mess, Janet was on the foredeck doing some kind of meteorological research with her father and Rhodey, and Steve and Bucky were playing cards midships. Steve had parlayed Tony's dollar into about thirty bucks' worth of winnings, but he hadn't paid Tony back yet.
He was considering doing another engine walkthrough, just to escape all the people on the ship, but Bucky looked up just as he was descending the stairs to the lower decks.
"Tony," he called. Tony saw Steve lay his cards down and fold up his winnings. "Come over, pull up a tarp."
"Engine walkthrough," Tony called, hesitating on the top step.
"Again?" Steve asked.
"Well, we were under attack," Tony said. "Until we get her into dry-dock, I want to make sure I don't miss it if a housing cracks or something."
"I'll come with you," Bucky said, touching Steve's shoulder as he stood and passed him. Steve gave him a weird little nod.
"Won't be interesting," Tony said, continuing down the stairs as Bucky jogged to catch up. "I mean, it's just staring at machine parts."
"I'm not doing it for laughs," Bucky answered, following him down the hallway, then down another set of narrower stairs.
"Nobody does," Tony said with a half-smile, unlocking the door. This end of the engine room was mostly quiet, but the dull thud-thud of propulsion was like a second pulse. "Seriously, Buck, it's really boring."
"Which is why I'm a little worried you're doing it twice a day," Bucky said, slipping past him just inside the doorway and blocking his way forward. "Tony. Come on. The engines don't need another inspection."
Tony cocked a hip, crossing his arms. "So I'm bored, big deal. Worse things I could be doing."
"This isn't because you're bored," Bucky said. "Don't give me that sullen-kid pout, you haven't pulled the sullen-kid pout on me in two years."
Tony schooled his face into something more passive.
"What's going on?" Bucky asked, stepping closer. "You're down here all the time, you hardly look at me lately -- are you okay?" he asked. Tony stared at him. "Did uh. Everything that's happened, if you were....if it scared you, look, I understand. It scared me, sending you down there to get Steve, retaking the ship..."
"I wasn't scared," Tony said, and then at Bucky's knowing look, amended. "I wasn't so scared it's still bugging me."
"Then what's going on?" Bucky asked. He tipped Tony's chin up and kissed him. "Tell me. I'm worried."
Tony leaned back, and hurt flashed in Bucky's eyes.
"I just wanted to give you and Steve some time," he said.
"Time?" Bucky asked.
"He's got catching up to do. You two do. Together," Tony said.
"Well, yeah, but -- I think you've mostly proved you're actually better at explaining the last twenty years than I am, especially since you were...y'know, lucid for more than I was," Bucky said. His eyes scanned Tony's face, the hurt from earlier settling more permanently. "Did I do something? Are you angry with me?"
"Look, I know I'm not good at making things easy, as Steve very thoroughly reminded me," Tony said. "But I'm trying to make this painless for both of us."
"This?" Bucky asked.
"This. Us. Ending," Tony said.
"Ending," Bucky repeated, his voice dropping.
"I'm trying," Tony said desperately. "I really am, Buck, I -- this is the way I know how to do this. I want you to be happy."
"This is a strange way of showing that," Bucky said. He looked angry. "How exactly is ending -- ending us -- by running away from me, how is that meant to make me happy?"
"Because -- Steve," Tony managed. It was hard to breathe, it hurt, but he drew in what he could, because maybe if he said it, that would be the end of it. "We've been trying to find him forever, and now we have, and I know we were on borrowed time until we did. It's okay, you don't have to worry about me. I knew. I knew, Buck, when he came back it'd be over."
Bucky was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "Because...you think Steve and I were together."
"Well, pretty sure the whole brotherhood-of-soldiers, rescued-you-from-certain-death, lived-your-whole-lives-together thing trumps me," Tony said, misery rising in him. Bucky couldn't be trying to be cruel, he didn't have it in him, but it still hurt, was still so humiliating.
"You thought as soon as Steve was back I'd leave you," Bucky said, sounding....almost confused. The edge of anger had left his voice, though, at least.
"I don't blame you. I can't compete."
"Tony, oh my God," Bucky breathed. "You've got this wrong. Oh, Jesus, you've got this so wrong."
Tony felt hands cup his face, and he didn't realize he'd closed his eyes against hot, embarrassing tears until he felt the warm steel of Bucky's left thumb wipe one away.
"I love Steve, but we weren't ever like that. For God's sake," Bucky said, tilting Tony's face up to look in his eyes. "Tony, I chose you a long time ago."
"You don't have to -- "
"No, I do, you need to hear this," Bucky said. "Even if I could have, with him, and there was a time I would have wanted to, even if he came to me today and asked me to go and be with him, I wouldn't. I love him but I weighed you against his ghost a long time ago and I chose you, Tony. I was never going to leave you for him. You thought -- and you still, we still went looking every year....Tony," he breathed, and kissed him, and Tony wasn't strong enough not to respond when Bucky said his name that way. "Jesus, I don't deserve you."
"But..." Tony trailed off, pressing his face into Bucky's neck, letting Bucky pull him close. "You never with him? Ever?"
"I should have told you, but it didn't even occur to me you might think that. Steve's no reason to end this, Tony. He likes you. Thinks you're good for me," he added, and Tony snorted a wet, snotty laugh into Bucky's shoulder.
"Clearly he hasn't spent enough time around me," Tony said.
"Whose fault is that?" Bucky asked, but Tony felt him kiss the ridge of his ear, gently. "I'm not gonna leave you until I gotta, Tony. And that'll be your call, not mine."
Tony clung to him for a while, waiting for Bucky to let go, to make an awkward joke and maybe hustle him back upstairs, but he didn't; he just stood there, waiting, and didn't step back until Tony did first.
"What do we do now?" Tony asked, wiping his nose embarrassedly. Bucky handed him a handkerchief with a smile.
"You should probably wash your face," he said. "Then come up to the mess and we'll have something to eat. We should be docking day after tomorrow, and you know I'll be in hot water if you look less than healthy."
"I don't think anyone's going to be looking at us," Tony said. "Well. Not me."
Bucky smiled. "One more act before we can leave this all behind us and go sleep on real beds in a real house."
"You love the Marvel."
"I like her a lot more when my boyfriend isn't ignoring me," Bucky said softly. "The next few days are gonna be...a lot, Tony. Promise me we'll still have this on the other side."
"Yeah," Tony said, and relief flooded through him. He felt warm for the first time in days. "Promise. Okay. Let's go eat."
***
They made radio contact when they were only two or three hours out from Manhattan, figuring that this close to the US coastline they'd be reasonably safe from Soviet subs.
Tony got on the radio once Carol had approved it, and he made it through to SHIELD pretty fast. They fetched Peggy, and once Tony had given a brief report, he handed the microphone to Steve and left the room -- it couldn't be an easy conversation, and they were owed at least a little privacy. All he heard as he left was Aunt Peggy saying, I'm afraid we missed our dance.
"I didn't think about how hard it'd be for him," Tony said, standing in the corridor outside with Bucky. "I forgot how hard it was for you."
"Well, I had you," Bucky said. "And now he's got you, too, as well as me. We'll get him back to the mansion and give him some time. Steve's strong. He'll adapt, like I did."
Steve emerged then, looking haggard. "Howard's on," he said. "He wants to talk to Tony."
"Time to convince Dad to bring out the press at the dock," Tony said. "He's gonna think I've gone off the deep end."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Bucky said, pressing a hand gently into the small of his back. "Almost done. Don't forget to tell him about the Soviet prisoners."
They might not always be the best at talking, him and his dad, but Tony would say this, Howard was good at reading vocal tone, and he was fast to catch on when something was happening beneath the surface. He agreed readily to the presence of the press, and he said he'd handle the announcement about the Soviet spies.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Tony. Over," he said, before they signed off.
"Me too, Dad. Remember -- we think they were working for a small extremist cell, not the Soviet government. Over."
"Believe me, nobody wants to take a swipe at the Soviets less than I do," Howard said, and then there was a pause so long Tony wondered if he'd forgotten to over. "You've done great work on this, son. I know it's been a lot of time and effort. Well done. Over."
Tony stared at the radio, shocked.
"Did Mom tell you to say that? Over," he said, and heard the crackle of Howard's laughter.
"I had some prodding," he admitted. "Doesn't make it untrue, Tony. I'll see you in a few hours. Out."
By the time they were pulling in to dock, the crew wrangling a gangplank up to the deck, everyone had washed and put on the best clothes they had -- Bucky and Steve were scrubbed and sleek, and Tony had shaved off most of the beard, though he'd left a goatee, which he thought made him look older. Jan hopped up and down and waved at the railing beside him.
"This was fun," she said to Tony, in between shouts and posing for the cameras. "You have to promise to take me on all your exciting adventures, Tony."
"I wouldn't leave you out, not after what you did," Tony agreed. "We'll start an explorers' club. The Millionaire Mountain Climbing and Table Tennis Society."
"Sounds delightful. Smile and hug me so everyone thinks we had a torrid affair on the boat, and the creeps won't bother me for a few months," she ordered, and Tony laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her on the cheek for the photographers before pulling back.
"Almost time?" he asked Bucky, on his other side.
"Wait for it," Bucky said with a grin.
Below, on the dock, a crowd of reporters and photographers was cordoned off to one side; beyond them were a handful of cars, including at least two he recognized as his dad's. Off to the left were stacks of cargo boxes and pallets waiting to be loaded onto some other ship. Perfect.
The gangplank was finally settled into place, and a band began to play the Star Spangled Banner as Steve appeared at the railing, waving like a movie star. The reporters below began to hustle and elbow one another. A pair of policeman approached the bottom of the gangplank as Rhodey pushed his way to the front, dragging the shackled sub commander by an elbow. Behind him, Carol was leading a likewise-bound Natasha.
"Almost," Bucky said. "Almost..."
With a movement so fast it was almost a blur, Natasha Romanoff turned gracefully, bringing both of her hands up and into Carol's chest. Carol flew backwards and Natasha all but pirouetted, kicking another crew member in the face. Still bound at the wrists, she ducked and rolled past a clumsy attempt to grab her by Steve, elbowed Rhodey so hard he and the commander went down together, and then bolted for the gangplank.
The police at the bottom started up, but she kicked out mid-stride, knocking one of them into the water, catching the other one a stunning blow on the jaw. Reporters clamored as she hit the ground running; Steve bounded up to the railing and yelled "STOP HER!"
A few brave souls gave chase, but Natasha was fast; she was already weaving through the pallets, looking for cover.
"Now?" Tony asked.
"Now," Bucky agreed, checking to be sure that the commander was on his feet again and watching. He drew his gun, took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger.
Natasha's body jerked, and a spray of blood danced across the pallet behind her. She went down like a puppet with its strings cut. Blood began to pool beneath her.
Rhodey, taking his cue off Bucky, hustled the commander down the gangway. About halfway down, another set of police took him into custody and dragged him, stunned, into a squad car. The rest of the crew began unloading, while the reporters stared up at Bucky in shocked silence. Bucky holstered the gun.
"Steve," he said. "Dancing monkey time."
"Got it," Steve said grimly, then put on a big wide smile and descended to distract the journalists. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry you had to see that. Stark Industries is preparing a statement on the two spies that we uncovered while on our return journey to New York, but understandably that will now have to wait. That said, I think we can still give you a story. My name is Steve Rogers..."
"Wow," Tony said, watching him go. "He's really good at that."
"Lots of practice," Bucky sighed. Tony glanced back at the row of pallets where Natasha had been shot. There was nothing but the pool of blood left.
They joined Steve at the makeshift podium, or rather Tony did; Bucky stood back a little, watchful, while Tony, Jan, and Rhodey clustered around Steve and answered questions. Finally, Howard appeared and dismissed the crowd, then turned to Steve and hugged him tightly. Tony was shocked to see dampness in his eyes.
"I'm sorry I didn't look harder for you," he said.
"Howard -- " Steve shook his head. "You had no way of knowing."
"But we should have -- "
"Nothing to be done about it now," Steve said firmly. "I don't need an apology. But I wouldn't mind a sandwich if you've got one handy."
"He knows how to deal with Dad, doesn't he?" Tony asked Bucky in a low voice, as they headed for the limousine that would take them back to the mansion.
"Howard hasn't actually changed all that much," Bucky replied.
When Tony clambered into the limo, he found his mother already inside, handing a martini to Natasha, who was sitting crosslegged on the floor so as not to be seen, cleaning fake blood out of her hair with a damp towel.
"Tony, dearest," Maria said, hugging him from the seat before gesturing to Natasha. "I believe this delightful young thing belongs to you?"
"Not to me," Tony said, grinning. "Natasha's her own woman."
"I am now," she agreed.
"Well, then I'll keep her for now; we're practically running a Home for Disenfranchised Soldiers at this rate anyway," she said, smiling benevolently at Natasha. Tony recognized the look; it was the same expression Maria had gotten whenever she approved of a girl Tony brought home. The one that said Potential Daughter Material.
"Sorry about all the theatrics," Tony said. "Steve's idea. We had to convince our other Soviet guest that Natasha wasn't a traitor. We'll have to send him home eventually, that's just diplomacy, and if word gets out that she's alive..."
"Hardly going to happen now," Howard said, cramming himself in, making room for Steve and his giant shoulders. "I haven't faked a death in too long, that was fun. Jarvis! Take this traveling circus home."
"Of course, sir," Jarvis said from the front seat.
"Tony, Natasha tells me you've promised her a Coney Island hot dog," Maria said. "I was thinking a nice outing this weekend might be just the thing."
"Is Coney Island still around?" Steve asked, looking wistful. "I'd like to go on the Cyclone without throwin' up -- uh, sorry, that's not nice conversation," he added, looking to Maria and blushing.
"Well," Maria said, smiling at him. "Aren't you sweet, Steve Rogers."
***
Dinner that evening was lively.
Rhodey showed up with Sam and Carol in tow, and Howard had invited Jan; her father was already locked away in his lab recording his findings and, no doubt, muttering darkly about how they'd had to cut the trip short. Tony wasn't sure Vernon van Dyne had even noticed that Soviets had invaded the ship at all.
Howard was cheerful, if subdued; Maria seemed thrilled to have so many young people in the house. Natasha sat with her back to the wall and watched everything, but she smiled and laughed when Sam went and settled next to her, and whenever she got a little wild-eyed, Maria appeared and seemed to soothe her down.
Peggy and Angie arrived with the girls, too, just before the meal. Conversation dropped to a murmur when they entered; Steve got up from the couch, where he'd been deep in conversation with Bucky. Maria began to gently herd everyone into the dining room. Tony stayed where he was near the door, watching.
"Steve," Peggy said quietly.
"Peggy," Steve replied. They eyed each other for a minute, warily, and then Peggy took a step forward and Steve swept her into his arms, shaking. Tony caught Angie's eye. She looked sad.
When the hug ended, Peggy stepped back, dry-eyed, and gave him a brave smile. "Steve, this is my good friend Angela Martinelli."
"Call me Angie," she said, taking his hand. "Heard a lot about you over the years."
"Pleasure to meet you," Steve said. "I understand you've been keeping Peggy out of trouble."
"It's why I got all the grey hairs," Angie said, smiling.
"And these are our daughters, Lilian and Sofia," Peggy continued. "Girls, this is Captain America."
Steve shook Lilian's hand, then crouched to shake Sofia's. "Call me Steve," he said softly. "You two look just like your mother."
"Lil, Sof," Tony called, and the two of them looked up, beaming when they saw him. "Come on, I need dates for dinner."
The girls ran forward, and he saw Angie pat Peggy on the arm before joining them.
"Give Peg and the kid a minute," she said to Tony, as they shuffled into the dining room. "They need a little time."
"You aren't worried?" Tony asked.
"About what? She might slap him for being two decades late to their date, but I doubt it, and I hear he can take it," Angie said, shooting him a grin.
"About, you know. Their past."
"Oh, Squirt," Angie laughed. "He might have her memories, but I've got twenty-five years on him now. Peggy's not going to leave me for a boy she knew for a few months in the war, however great or cinematic their love story was." She pecked him on the cheek. "And Bucky's not going to leave you for him either."
"I wasn't worried," he lied.
"Mmhm. Precious little queen." She patted his head. "Go sit with my daughters and make your boyfriend play nice with Lilian."
Tony let her shove him towards the empty seat between Lilian and Sofia; Bucky was indeed on the other side of Lilian, and shot him a look of tolerant annoyance over her head. Tony settled in as Steve and Peggy slipped through the door, hurrying to the last open seats -- Peggy next to Angie, Steve on Bucky's other side, at Howard's left hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Howard said from the head of the table, lifting his glass. "I have two toasts to make before we eat. First, to the crew of the Marvel, and the friends and family gathered here, for their hard work and the risks they've taken."
Everyone raised their drinks, and Howard let the silence stretch dramatically.
"Dad's such a showman," Tony muttered to Lilian, who stifled a laugh.
"And a second toast, which I think you all see coming. For twenty-five years, whenever we got together, the Howling Commandos have been lifting their glasses to the Captain, in remembrance," Howard continued. Steve flushed red. "Steve, I think I speak for everyone here when I say how happy we are to be able to toast you in the flesh once more and thank you for your sacrifice in person. And," he added, as everyone drank, "to be able to feed you, even if Anna threw a fit about serving a banquet on short notice. All right, kids, dig in. Someone pass me the mashed potatoes."
***
That night, after Peggy and Angie had gone home and Howard and Maria had gone up to bed, the remaining members of the Marvel's expedition team gathered in the library, and Tony poured out drinks from his father's "secret" good stash.
"So, how long is the ship in dry dock?" he asked, handing Carol a glass.
"Depends on you," she said. "Once the engines get a going-over, she'll be seaworthy. But I can't say I'd mind if you installed another set of magnetic repulsors."
"Why? Going up against the Soviets again?"
She shrugged. "No, but I told Dad about them and he's hot to see how they work."
"You're not taking the Marvel out again?"
"I was thinking I'd stay on land for a while. The hazard pay I got from Greenland, I could put a down payment on a couple of years of college. Or flight school -- I always liked planes better than boats," she added, glancing at Rhodey, who looked a little smug. "I have a few good reasons to stick around."
"SHIELD would train you, if you wanted," Tony said. "We're getting Sam a job -- "
"I'm still thinking about that," Sam put in.
" -- so I'm sure I could talk to Peggy about a new pilot," Tony finished.
"See what you can do about those uniforms," Jan said, wrinkling her nose. "I could never join SHIELD. So unfashionable."
"Well, design some new ones yourself," Rhodey said. "They'd probably love to have you."
"No high heels," Carol said.
"Dad's been doing some work with extreme textiles," Jan said thoughtfully.
"What about you, Steve?" Carol said, sitting back. "Any idea what you'd like to do? Or is it too early to say yet?"
Steve swirled his drink, considering. "I thought a little about it. I don't think I want to go back into the military yet. I need a little study first. Suppose I could always do some more moving pictures."
"Steve," Bucky said, looking at him gravely.
"Yeah, Buck?" Steve asked.
"Your movies were really and truly the worst thing I've ever seen in the dark," Bucky said, and Steve burst out laughing.
"All right, maybe Hollywood's not for me," he allowed. "I don't know. Seems a shame to waste all this science," he added, gesturing at his chest. "Maybe I'll join SHIELD too. Or the police. No need to decide tonight, Howard said I can stay here for a while. Me and Natasha both."
"How about you, Tasha?" Jan asked, giving her an encouraging smile. "What're you going to do in the New World?"
Natasha looked at Sam, then down at her hands. "Don't know," she said softly.
"Well, what do you like to do?" Jan prompted.
Natasha frowned. "Don't know that either," she said, sounding faintly upset.
"Well, finding out oughta be fun," Sam said. "You can start at Coney Island this weekend. Maria invited me," he said to Tony, who grinned.
"You should take Natasha to a ball game," he said. "And the movies. You get decadent capitalist movies in the USSR?"
Natasha's smile was a little less unsure. "Strictly for research," she said.
"So is that a no?" Sam asked.
"No, it's not a no," she said. Sam looked delighted.
"Are you two going back to Boston?" Rhodey asked, turning to Tony.
"I don't know," Tony said, looking to Bucky. "Robotics did okay without me all summer, and it's making money now. I feel like I could probably hand it off to the interim head. Come back to HQ, start learning my way around the business."
"So you'd stay in New York?" Steve asked, sounding hopeful. "You and Bucky?"
"Tony," Bucky said. "We don't have to -- "
"No, it's time. Dad said I couldn't dick around in Robotics forever, and he's not wrong. I can do better work at HQ. But I'm not moving back into the mansion," Tony said. "Dad cramps my style. We'll get a bachelor pad somewhere. Steve can come too -- you'll want to, by the time we find one," he added to Steve. "Dad cramps everyone's style."
"This'll be so great," Jan said. "The eight of us? We'll be unstoppable. Look out, Manhattan!"
"Today Coney Island, tomorrow the world," Tony said, and everyone raised their glasses. Bucky rested a hand on Tony's back, curling his fingers into the material of his shirt, and Tony leaned back into it, trying to convey affection and gratitude and possessiveness without speaking. Maybe it worked; Bucky relaxed a little, and his hand slipped down to cop a quick feel of his ass before he withdrew.
"You're my favorite," Tony said in his ear.
"Love you too," Bucky replied, and ruffled his hair.
"Okay, as the responsible adult here, I'm calling an end to the party," Rhodey said, giving Tony a knowing look. "Sam, Carol? Jan, you need a lift?"
"Easier than a taxi, thank you," Jan said. "Natasha, call me before you let Maria take you shopping."
"Thank you," Natasha said.
"Don't thank me yet, I can't wait to see how you look in designer labels," Jan said, kissing her cheek. She patted Steve on the head as she passed. "If you want to come along, Steve, don't be shy..."
"I'm not sure I can find my room again," Steve said to Tony, once the others were gone. "Howard showed me, but this place..."
"Yeah, I used to pretend I was a jungle explorer when I was a kid, I drew maps of every floor," Tony said with a grin. "Come on, I'll show you there. Natasha, you need a native guide too?"
"No, I remember," she said, and disappeared down the hallway before Tony could reply.
"She's going to be fun," Tony said.
"She sounds very lost," Steve said. "I think both of us have a ways to go."
"You know, when Bucky was...coming back, he had bad days too," Tony said. "You could talk to him. He'd like that, probably."
Steve cast a sidelong look at him. "You don't mind?"
"Was I so obvious?"
"Only to Bucky. Once he brought it up, it wasn't hard to see." Steve shrugged. "He was worried about you."
"Well, I'm feeling a little more secure now. Apparently I can take you in a fight," Tony said, punching Steve's arm. It actually hurt a little, and he shook his hand out, subtly.
"I love Buck," Steve said. "What he went through, even just the little he told me...I'm glad he had you, Tony."
"Well, he saved my life a couple of times, so, I figure we're even. Aaand here's your room," Tony added, exquisitely glad that this little confessional was over. "Sleep well."
"That's the great thing about Bucky," Steve said, turning to stand in the doorway. "And the awful thing. You think you have to balance the books, but he just doesn't think that way. He'd give everything and never expect anything back. Far as I can tell, he did that with me, a couple of times. I'm just glad he found someone who takes -- takes a little less than I did."
"Oh," Tony said, unsure how to react to that. "Well. Thanks, I guess."
Steve smiled. "Goodnight, Tony. Hey, if I don't show up by breakfast, send out a search party, huh?"
"Night, Steve," Tony said, and hurried back to his own room once the door had shut. Bucky was there, undressed and in bed, already half-asleep by the look of him.
"Steve get to bed okay?" he mumbled, as Tony stripped down and crawled under the blankets, huddling into the warmth of him.
"Yep. Long day for everyone," Tony yawned.
"No kiddin'." Bucky curled an arm around him. "Can I be there when you tell your dad you're moving back to New York?"
"Consider it an early Christmas gift," Tony said. "He's going to pull the same shit he pulled with Boston -- be prepared to look at every penthouse in Manhattan."
Bucky nuzzled into his neck sleepily. "S'okay. Steve'll handle him."
"Steve's gonna be fun, I think."
"Oh, now you like him."
"Mmhm," Tony said, curling his hands around Bucky's on his waist. "Sleep, Buck. Big day tomorrow."
Bucky's breathing evened out against his neck, and Tony could feel him smile as he slept. It felt like a puzzle piece fitting into place, one he didn't even know was missing until today. Some old wound in Bucky was healing, and he'd have to thank Steve Rogers for that, somehow.
Tommorrow. Tonight, this was enough.